Clotheslines & Lacy Lingerie
by Valvox
Summary: Annabelle is doing her weekend chores, and is finally hanging the washing out – after much procrastination – when she comes across a rather saucy thong. Who could this piece of lacy launderette belong to? And why is there a ‘K’ bedazzled across the back?
1. The Summary

St Trinian's

Title: Clotheslines & Lacy Lingerie

Rating: K+

Summary: Annabelle is doing her weekend chores, and is finally hanging the washing out – after much procrastination – when she comes across a rather saucy thong. Who could this piece of lacy launderette belong to? And why is there a 'K' bedazzled across the back? Kelly/Annabelle.

Author's Note: I had this idea when I was hanging out the washing the other day (duh!), and it's been bugging me ever since. Tell me what you think of the idea! =]


	2. The Discovery

Clotheslines & Lacy Lingerie

Chapter 1: The Discovery

A/N: _ Firstly, I'm SO sorry I haven't updated, I'm away on holiday so it's kind of hard! Sorry about the writing style, I think I may have accidentally flitted between several different types of writing without realising, and I'm sorry about spelling, grammar etc. _

Disclaimer: _I do not own anything, only the storyline._

Annabelle sighed as she struggled with the large washing basket.

Having to hang the washing out was the worst chore to be allocated, especially on a Saturday morning after an evening of 'caning' in all night.

Annabelle still wasn't quite sure what 'it' was, nor did she want to...especially if it was explained by one of the more vulgar students.

_Oh wait, _she thought, _they're ALL vulgar!_

Annabelle smirked as she dumped the load unceremoniously on the creaking, old washing trolley; she then gave another exaggerated sigh and picked up a gaudy pink towel.

Annabelle's slightly bell-like laugh echoed around the empty courtyard as she pegged the towel to the washing line, it practically _screamed _'Posh Totty', with or without the little kisses embroidered around the edge.

'_Wonder what Kelly's up to?' _She thought to herself distractedly, '_probably still asleep, or hung-over.'_

Annabelle snorted, then realised she had done so aloud and blushed, pleased that on one was around to witness her unladylike guffaw.

Frowning, Annabelle picked up another piece of the wet clothing and giggled when she realised what it was.

Annabelle was holding a small, black thong; with lace around the top and a heart sewn on the front.

She suspected it belonged to Chelsea [the poshest of the Totties], or maybe one of the secretly racy "Emo's", but out of blatant curiosity she checked the tag.

"Marks & Spencers", it read – but no name.

Annabelle rolled her eyes, mentally kicking herself, of _course _whoever owned this sexy piece of underwear wouldn't want everyone to know who it belonged to!

Writing a name on a piece of launderette like that was like tattooing 'tease me', across your forehead in a school like St Trinian's.

Turning the underwear over, she laughed. A slightly gaudy 'K' was bedazzled on the back.

'What are you doing, Fritton?' a smooth voice asked, surprising Annabelle and making her unconsciously drop the mystery knickers.

'Shit!' she mumbled, hurriedly picking them up and shoving them in the basket.

'Fritton?'

Annabelle turned on her heel, only to come face to face with the seriously intimidating (but no less attractive!) head girl – Kelly Jones.

'I...uh, was... just hanging out the washing!' she said unconvincingly, 'no hangover, then?'

'_Way to go Fritton,' _Annabelle internally screamed, _'Great subject change, REAL smooth!'_

Kelly laughed bitterly, 'You'd think so after two paracetamol's, three neurofen's and eight cups of coffee!'

Annabelle's forehead creased with worry, 'Are you sure that was wise, Kel? I mean, mixing drugs, alcohol and coffee?'

'Shut up, Fritton,' Kelly sighed, but she was secretly thrilled that the younger girl was so concerned for her well-being, 'I'm a big girl, and I can look after myself.'

'Okay then.' Annabelle muttered, still concerned.

'What about you?' Kelly asked, leaning against the pole in the centre of the line, and watching Annabelle hang the washing.

'I don't drink,' Annabelle laughed 'and _that _is why.'

'Oh shut up, Fritton.' Kelly smirked, 'when you _do _drink, we'll all be standing around laughing as _you _moan and groan about _you're _headache.'

'Impossible.' Annabelle said, dismissing the teasing comment as she struggled with a duvet cover.

She groaned and flailed wildly as it fell over her head.

'Need a hand, Fritton?' Kelly chuckled.

'No!' she huffed, and then proceeded to twist around, trip over the cover and land with a satisfying 'squelch' in a puddle of water.

'You sure about that, Fritton?' Kelly asked, stifling a laugh.

'Ow...' Annabelle moaned, rolling out of the muddy puddle.

'Sorry,' Kelly smirked, 'are you okay?'

'What's wrong?' Kelly crouched beside Annabelle, suddenly worried, 'Do you need Matron? What hurts?'

'My bum.' Annabelle said, deadpanned.

Kelly laughed her trademark chest chuckle as she helped Annabelle scramble out of the cover.

'Thanks.' Annabelle blushed, as she resumed her tedious chore.

Kelly shook the now-wet cover and hung it on the line, easily pegging each corner – _without _an accident.

'Pass me something.' Kelly ordered, since it was obvious that it would take Annabelle far too long by herself.

Annabelle handed her a towel and continued hanging others ties and shirts on the line, trying to hurry so as not to make Kelly do so much.

'Fritton?' Kelly looked at Annabelle, 'something else?'

Annabelle suddenly noticed there were only two items of washing left; a pillow case and the thong.

'Uh...here.' Annabelle handed Kelly the revealing underwear, curious as to how the usually so level-headed and elegant head girl would react.

'Tha...' Kelly began, then realised what she was holding.

'Shit.' She muttered, turning bright red.

Annabelle laughed, she hadn't expected this reaction!

'What's wrong, Kelly?' Annabelle asked, grinning.

'What?' Kelly looked up and blushed again, 'N – nothing, just, nothing.'

'Suuuuure.' Annabelle said, teasingly.

Kelly turned an even darker shade of red as she hung the pants on the line.

'So, do you know who's they are?' Annabelle asked, still giggling.

'Possibly.' Kelly quirked an eyebrow, trying to be as cryptic as humanly possible. And regain her cool mask of 'perfectness'.

'You _do!_' the curly-haired brunette shrieked, 'oh, do tell!'

'I'm not admitting anything.' Kelly fixed Annabelle with the firm glare she usually reserved for unruly teachers, but failed miserably - Annabelle was off with the fairies – wondering who on Earth could own the undies.

'Really, Annabelle,' Kelly laughed, 'you need to keep your mind out of the gutter and focus on your chores!'

'What?' Annabelle was totally out of it.

'I believe my point is made.' Kelly laughed, mainly to herself, 'let's go inside, Fritton. Get you some food.'

'I'm not hungry,' Annabelle lied, as her stomach rumbled loudly.

'Mhmm.' Kelly smiled knowingly.

'I'm not!'

It rumbled again.

'B...but what about the undies?' she asked, clearly desperate for a good piece of gossip.

'Grow up, Fritton.'


	3. The Recovery

Chapter 2: The Recovery

A/N:  Umm... the internet was kinda sporadic [I learnt that word from TheOneYouCallWe, I think... if not, she's still a genius!], so I'm totally sorry for taking so long! I hope you guys like it. If you don't, I still like you guys, because I feel nice today. =]

Disclaimer: St Trinian's is awesome, but if I owned it...I... I think I'd die just from the excitement. I'm sorry, but I would.

'Heads up!' a First Year yelled.

A muddy-looking football then proceeded to spiral across the dining hall, Kelly shoved Annabelle against the wall, protecting her from the ball, and most of the First Years.

'Uhm...thanks.' Annabelle smiled slightly; she wasn't used to being so... _close... _to someone as attractive as Kelly.

'No problem.' Kelly did the same half-smile that Annabelle had used and blushed, surprising the younger girl.

The two then fought their way across the crowded hall, using tables as cover and dirty trays as shields, and finally made their way to the cafeteria line.

Annabelle walked over to the line, dumping her filthy tray for a fresh one.

'What are you doing, Fritton?' Kelly gave her a strange look, which Annabelle had no idea of how to interpret.

'Lining up to get some food...?' This came out as more of a question than a statement, but then Annabelle was always a little unsure of herself – despite being a fully-fledged St Trinian.

Kelly grinned, 'You don't have to line up any more, Fritton.'

'Why not?' Annabelle asked, incredulous.

'You're with me now.'

'I am?' Annabelle was even more confused.

'Yeah, now come on, Fritton.'

'Oh-kay...' Annabelle followed Kelly uncertainly, slightly caught up in the incredibly sexy way that her hips moved.

'_Ugh.' _Annabelle thought to herself, _'Don't go all gooey over me now, Fritton. You're a St Trinian now, YOU do the teasing, and you do NOT get teased.'_

'Where are we going?' Annabelle asked, her voice full of the childlike innocence that was so _her._

'Somewhere.'

'Ooh, very descriptive Kelly!' Annabelle laughed, 'You should become an author!'

Kelly gave Annabelle a look that clearly said 'shut up', and continued walking.

'_Dear God, take me now before I suffer the wrath of a PMS'ing Kelly.' _Annabelle silently prayed, _'how can someone so sexy be so intimidating?'_

'Come on, Fritton.' Kelly called, and Annabelle suddenly realised she was lagging behind, 'and stop perving at my arse!'

'What?'

Looking up from Kelly's behind [which she had _clearly _been 'perving' at], she blushed.

Yet again.

'I wasn't-' Annabelle began, but was cut off.

'Sure.' Kelly's brow rose higher than Annabelle had ever seen it, but Kelly said no more, continuing her sexy strut that had caught Annabelle's attention so easily in the first place.

'_Fritton is smitten.' _Annabelle laughed to herself, following Kelly like a...dog, which she noted, and moved so she walked confidently beside Kelly.

They moved through the school quickly, until they reached a very normal-looking door [with three bulky locks on it], which Kelly unlocked.

'Nice security.' Annabelle smirked.

'Nice face.' Kelly shot back, entering the room.

Annabelle touched her cheek self-consciously, but shrugged off the remark, despite being hurt, and followed Kelly into the room.

'Oh, so this is your bedroom?' she asked, curious to know more about the beloved head girl of St Trinian's.

'Yeah,' Kelly replied vaguely, 'you like it?'

'Sure.' Annabelle said, looking around the room.

Kelly's room was painted a simple white, with nothing that could easily connect the girl to the room. Her cupboard doors were closed, bed neatly made, and clothes put away. A small wooden dresser with locks on it sat in the corner.

'What are you doing, Kel?' Annabelle asked, watching as Kelly slipped a key from the dresser to the inside of her white blouse.

Kelly smiled, 'Just come with me, Fritton, you'll see.'

Walking out the front door, Annabelle did as Kelly asked, following her down the hallway and through the empty halls of the school.

_So what'd you think? I don't really like this chapter – I was stumped as to what to write, sadly. I think I've got writer's block... it sounds like a disease, doesn't it? Hope it isn't catching...!_

_Ily xxx =]_


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